


Close Quarters

by LittleMulattoKitten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, F/M, Head Boy Tom Riddle, Head Girl Head Boy AU, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Light BDSM, Mild S&M, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Smut, One Shot, PWP, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Train AU, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMulattoKitten/pseuds/LittleMulattoKitten
Summary: Somehow, Tom and Hermione ended up sharing a SINGLE head's suite instead of two separate ones for the three day train ride to Hogwarts. Perhaps it's just a well laid matchmaking trap, or coincidence, but whatever it is, Tom realizes he can make the best out of the situation...for both of them.A ridiculous little gift for PumpkinDream over on FFN.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lord Pumpking](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Lord+Pumpking).



Tom glared at overly-excited first years and sent warning stares at any upper year student who seemed suspicious. He was in a mood, a particularly foul one at that, and that combined with the glinting silver badge on his outer robe make his trek through the train smooth. For Tom had the pleasure of needing to seek out the _infamous_ Hermione Granger.

He rolled his eyes. Trust Dumbledore to make the Ravenclaw swot his fellow Head. She was generally considered a sweet girl by their professors, though she had very few close companions and was practically married to the library, but all Tom could see her as was a rival. Grades. Housepoints. Relationships with professors. The witch was always neck and neck with him. He hated her.

Though she made that difficult as well.

By most standards, it should have been impossible for a young man like himself to loathe an intelligent, visually appealing, _powerful_ witch. Powerful in spite of her heritage. One couldn't help who one's parents were, he supposed, and she'd been significantly less tolerable in their younger years than she was now, but that didn’t prevent him from disliking her. She was still a horror. And a rarity.

She had the majority of the male population of their year by the collar and she didn't even realize it.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. They'd be sharing the head's dorm. _He’d_ be sharing a _common_ _room_ with the intolerable swot for the year.

Thank Salazar the train had Head’s suites. Maybe their interactions would be kept to a minimum for a few days at least.

He finally neared the compartment number that had been in the letter explaining his role as Head Boy and looked around. There were the standard double bunk bed compartments all around him, and he noted with pleasure that there were no windows to his suite for anyone to try and peak into. _Private_ was certainly the word.

He tapped his wand against the wood of the door, quietly muttering the password he’d been given…and promptly cursed.

 _Granger_ was sitting on the bed - the _only_ bed – in muggle pajama shorts and a Ravenclaw pullover. She glanced up briefly, her expression resigned and more than a little annoyed, when the door clicked shut behind him.

"No," she began coolly, "There is not another Head suite and there is not another bed. I already asked."

"That makes no sense," he said.

She rolled her eyes and shut the volume in her lap with a loud smack. "Honestly, Riddle, do you even pay attention to anything outside of yourself?" She asked with annoyance. "When was the last time the Head Boy and Girl _weren't_ a couple prior to being appointed?"

Tom 's jaw clenched in frustration as he tried to think back to the years prior. He’d never cared much for the romantic side of schoolyard politics, but what little he did know made dread pool in his stomach.

“There has to be _something—_ ” He stared, but she cut him off.

“I _tried_ ,” she said hotly. “And we aren’t allowed to alter the room itself because it may unbalance the expansion charms and then we’d have a _much_ bigger problem than inconvenient sleeping arrangements.”

Tom set his belongings by the door with an ungraceful thud before he regarded her again. “Watch your tone, Granger,” he said. “Don’t assume that I’ll be putting up with your attitude just because we’re supposed to be _partners_ as Heads.”

Her eyes were burning as she crossed the room, made the mistake of invading his personal space, and jabbed him in the chest with a blue and bronze painted nail.

" _Piss off_ , Riddle," she snapped. "I'm not like your measly band of followers or those trollops that chase you around. I'm not a _sheep_.”

Her defiance added to his already simmering frustration. Coupled with the fact that she _dared_ to touch him, to speak to him in such a way, it really wouldn’t surprise him later when he realized he couldn’t remember how they got from the middle of the room to him taking her by the wrists and slamming her against the nearest wall.

“Let’s get a few things straight, _Granger_ ,” he hissed. “Just because we’re co-Heads doesn’t mean we’re _friends_. We’re partners, if anything, and as far as I’m concerned that means you do your job, I do mine, and we stay the hell out of each other’s way. It means _you_ stay out of _my_ way.”

“Get off me,” she said, the slight waver in her voice making him smirk tauntingly.

“I’m sorry, Poppet,” he said sweetly. “Did I frighten you?”

He could tell she was clenching her teeth together, probably to hold back embarrassed or angry tears, and having one upped her pleased him greatly.

“It’s no wonder you haven’t any real friends,” she said, her voice hard. “You’re a horrible person.”

“You would know,” he taunted. “Your only friend is a year younger than you and the entire school thinks she insane.”

“At least I have a friend!” She shouted, unsuccessfully trying to tug herself free of his hold. “You’re nothing but a foul, loathsome—”

Tom tightened his hold on her wrists, causing her to cut herself off with a whine. He rolled his eyes when she continued to glare at him even though her cheeks had flushed and those tears of embarrassment had finally started to prickle at the edges of her eyes.

“I can make this year very _difficult_ for you, Granger,” he said lowly. “Do you really want to tempt me? It would be such a waste of talent to ruin you…a pity really.”

“Let go,” she said. “ _Let me go_.”

He titled his head and looked her over in silence. Such a mouthy thing, but he would fix that. Thankfully she’d figured out what to do with her hair by fifth year, so that wasn’t such an eyesore. Honestly, her attitude was his biggest problem. He could give her so much power if she’d just stop being a thorn in his side.

“Are you going to do as you’re told, Poppet?” He asked.

Her reaction was so brief and she hid it to quickly that he nearly missed it, but he could tell by the panic in her eyes that she knew he hadn’t. She was making it difficult to hate her again, but at least she’d given him something to hold over her head.

His smirked down at her. “Granger, Granger, Granger,” he said. “Aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

He chuckled.  “You’re supposed to be the good girl, Granger,” he taunted. “Perfect grades, uniform never askew, teacher’s pet. The only thing you’re missing is friends, but maybe you’re less perfect that I gave you credit for…”

“Shut up,” she snapped.

“Watch your mouth,” he growled. Their faces were so close their noses were almost touching. Too close for her to hide, but not too close for her to see his smirk widen when he got the reaction he wanted. He laughed at her again.

He could have fun with her, he realized. Their living arrangements could become much more…mutually beneficial very quickly.

“I never would’ve pegged you as the type with naughty little secrets.” he purred, brushing their cheeks together before trailing his nose from her jawline to her pulse point. A strained noise left her throat and he smugly considered it a victory. “Tell me, Poppet, did you break up with McLaggen because he couldn’t fuck you properly?”

She shuddered, causing her now half-hearted fight against his hold on her to cease momentarily. Tom used the lapse in her struggling to his advantage, snaking an arm around her waist. Then he hoisted her up against the wall.

“Did he even pull your hair like a proper gent?” He continued, sinking his teeth into her neck just hard enough to make her hiss and squirm against him. Just hard enough for the skin to be flushed pink when he pulled away. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“You don’t even like me,” she managed, and he mentally applauded her for almost keeping the want out of her voice.

“Last time I checked, liking a person wasn’t a requirement for sex,” he said against her neck. She shivered. “You don’t like me, but…” He shifted slightly, keeping her pinned against the wall with his hips while he lifted her arms above her head, trapping both her wrists in one hand. His other hand, now free, ghosted up one thigh towards the hem of her conveniently baggy shorts. “You’re probably wet for me already, aren’t you?”

“Riddle,” she whined, but he shushed her before she could say more.

“The upper year prefects know what they’re doing and the meeting isn’t until after the dinner trolleys have made their rounds. Live a little, Granger.”

His thumb brushed along the edge of her knickers, causing her to writhe against him. Some cross between a growl and a purr left his chest at the contact. He nipped her neck as a reward. “Good Girl.”

Whatever remaining will to fight him left her in that moment, and he watched with burning satisfaction while her eyes glazed over and a flush tinted her cheeks.

She was so much harder to loathe like this, he realized, as the many beneficial possibilities of their arrangement ran through his mind. Each more tempting than the last.

Tom smirked and readjusted his grip around her waist so he could lift her and move them to the bed, where he tossed her down onto the mattress without warning. Her surprised squeak made him snort while his fingers found and loosened his tie. She watched him, glaring.

“Don’t frown like that, kitten,” he taunted. “We've got plenty of time to play."

She raise a single sass-filled brow at him. "Make me."

His veins ignited at the challenge and he smirked, his fingers unbuttoning his shirt leisurely as they stared each other down. Pristine white cotton fell from his shoulders once he'd tugged his arms free and the metal fixtures of his belt were loud as he undid them. The only other sound in the room was their breathing, hers heavier than his, but only just.

"Gladly," he purred, toeing off his shoes before he crawled up the mattress.

She shuffled back, seeming to finally sense that he was not someone she ought to be baiting, and her back quickly met the wall that functioned as their headboard.

"How would you like to play this, Granger?" He asked. "Are you going to fight me or are you going to behave?"

"Depends on what you consider a fight," she responded, defiance in her eyes.

His smirk widened and he slipped two fingers under the waist bands of her knickers and shorts, his grip poised so he could mutter a spell and tear them off. " _Perfect_ ," he said.

He attacked her lips with his own as the sound of ripping fabric filled the room.

 

 


End file.
